


can you hold me?

by orphan_account



Series: scintilla [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cravings, Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, Like, M/M, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13058778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: All Keith wanted, all he hoped for, was to have someone with him. The support wouldn’t be enough if it came from anyone – sure, the team he was currently part of was a long lost family – but the one who his mind easily supplied was Shiro.Day 2: "Your friend desperately wants to see you"





	can you hold me?

**Author's Note:**

> Like, just listen to this song while reading: Can you hold me by NF. It's. Beautiful and heartbreaking. I felt like crying while writing this. Hope you enjoy.

The pain creeping into his bones drop by drop was a constant reminder of humanity. Humans were vulnerable. They broke easily and suffered.

After spending so much time surrounded by nothingness – darkness and stars and occasionally planets – Keith started to feel a part of him turn into a meteor and launch into space, destroying itself until it could reach something solid. His insecurities, though, remained stuck on his mind with clips and began to blind the side of him that still trusted and hoped and feared, the part that was too vulnerable and too human to be exposed so long.

More than two thirds of his faith was dedicated to Shiro. There were times when, too intoxicated by his intricacy, he offered a chance to others. It had always been treated badly, crushed beneath lies – all until Shiro. He was the one who unlocked a shadowed side of Keith long forgotten under layers of self-assurance and remnants of a protective wall.

The revelation of having gotten past the door he had been meant not to go through began to fade slowly with the increasing discomfort the fight had bestowed upon his body. 

Keith was staggering, breath ragged and blade so cold, so unmoving and repulsive between his fingers he almost dropped it only to get rid of the feeling. 

The floor was the same as the weapon – rigid, unwelcoming. He barely kept his eyelids apart, the concussions taking their toll on his consciousness. It was unbearable, having to withhold pain and still continue to fight as if things were all right, as if he wouldn’t just collapse if someone dared to even insufflate in his direction.

All Keith wanted, all he hoped for, was to have someone with him. The support wouldn’t be enough if it came from anyone – sure, the team he was currently part of was a long lost family – but the one who his mind easily supplied was Shiro.

Why? Not even Keith held the answer to that innocent question. Perhaps it was Shiro’s benevolence to stand by his side and guide him. It might have been the affection he centered towards Keith when he needed it the most, or the easiness with which he placed his trust, his whole being in Keith’s palm and said in a carefree voice, ‘Take it,’ as if he hadn’t just handed Keith the most precious trait – his love. 

“Keith, tell me how you feel,” he asked in that leader voice, laced with worry and the simple fact of caring enough to take interest in him.

A black gloved hand appeared in front of his eyes, expectant and certain, redemptive. Keith wished he could order his muscles to listen to him and function, but they wouldn’t.

The realization that Shiro might leave in case he didn’t, that his trust might be scattered in the wind like it didn’t mean more than the whole universe to Keith, more than his own life, stabbed his heart with a knife made from vileness, loathing and forbidden desire.

It was infinitesimal, but still present.

It had been a part of him and it spread like a disease in the moment.

Shiro was leaving, shoulders hunched in disappointment, posture straightened, the hand previously offered still vacant and waiting for a touch. Keith raised his fingers, trembling from exertion, and shouted with all he had. 

“Shiro, please, wait!” His voice sounded wrong even in his own ears, with particles of disuse grasping onto it and giving another tonality, another color. “Please don’t leave me again,” was all he managed, until his knees bent, feet moving before he could even think.

He was running. Keith had always been running from something. He was desperately trying to evade the cruelty of real world through running. The difference was that, for once, he wasn’t trying to escape or to make himself unseen.

He was keen on reaching Shiro, but it seemed that his leader didn’t have the same opinion since he was going further and further with every step, entering an aloof zone of danger.

As always, Keith followed him. He wouldn’t let Shiro leave him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Subscribe for the next part!


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